


Whispers Cuts

by EzzyDean



Series: whispers [2]
Category: Free!, Haikyuu!!, Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Crossover Pairings, Gen, M/M, Multi, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-06
Updated: 2017-07-06
Packaged: 2018-11-28 17:00:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11422269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EzzyDean/pseuds/EzzyDean
Summary: Bonus scenes and scenes cut from Whispers in Our Souls





	1. kageyama is confusing

"Nice shorts, babe," Koutarou calls out as he lets himself into the apartment - Yachi gave him and Tanaka both a spare key, after talking to Kageyama about it of course, weeks ago - and spots a familiar pair of pale yellow shorts on a figure bent over digging something out of the cupboard under the sink.

 

Kageyama glances back at him, blinks twice slowly, and goes back to digging whatever he was digging out.

 

"Thanks," he calls back as Koutarou trips out of his shoes and nearly smashes his nose into the wall.

 

Koutarou isn’t sure if he should be worried by the fact that this isn’t the first time he’s made this mistake when glancing up and spotting Kageyama in Yachi’s clothes or the fact that Kageyama doesn’t seem to be fazed by it in the least.

 

“Do, uh, dude why are you wearing Yachi’s shorts?  Again.”

 

“Laundry day,” Kageyama replies like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

 

“I thought that was yesterday.”

 

“Day after laundry day.”  Kageyama shrugs and stands with a triumphant noise with a roll of garbage bags in his hand.  “I don’t know.  We don’t really sort laundry that much anymore.  Don’t worry,” he adds as he heads down the hallway towards the bedrooms, “we don’t share under- well.”  He pokes his head back out of his bedroom.  “I don’t wear her underwear.  She steals mine from time to time I think.”

 

Then he is back in his room and Koutarou is more confused than ever.

  
  
  


“Hitoka?”

 

Ryuu freezes.  Not because Kageyama is in the apartment - the guy lives here after all - or because he’s shuffling sleepily into the kitchen at five in the morning - the guy always seemed to be a morning person of sorts - or even because he called Yachi ‘Hitoka’ - Ryuu got used to that like a month ago.  No Ryuu freezes because following the sleepily mumbled question is Kageyama’s arms around his waist and Kageyama’s face getting buried between his shoulder blades.

 

This.  This is a new experience.

 

It takes about ten seconds of Ryuu awkwardly frozen with his hand reaching for a cup of coffee for Kageyama to pull his face away.

 

“You’re not Hitoka.”

 

Ryuu is pretty sure Kageyama is pouting.  A glance over his shoulder as he finally finishes grabbing his coffee cup confirms it.  Yep Kageyama is definitely pouting.

 

“What gave it away?  My hair?”

 

Kageyama sniffles a little and wriggles his nose.  “No,” he says sleepily, “Hitoka’s shoulders aren’t so wide.”  Ryuu expects Kageyama to pull away and shuffle himself back to bed or to bury himself on the couch or grab a cup of coffee.  He does not expect Kageyama - who still has his arms wrapped around Ryuu’s waist - to bury his face back between Ryuu’s shoulder blades with a muffled, “You’re warm,” for an explanation when Ryuu sputters in surprise.

 

When Kageyama doesn’t make any indication of moving or detaching himself from Ryuu’s back Ryuu shrugs and grabs his coffee.  It’s one of the stranger things to happen to him recently but he’s seen the way Kageyama and Yachi are with each other and if he’s being honest it makes him feel kind of special that the kind of comfort the two of them have with each other is being extended to him.  Plus he’s not one to pass up hugs and snuggles as long as no one will be upset and he feels pretty confident that if she were to walk in right now Yachi would just laugh and probably hug him from the front and join in on the action.  She’s been worried about how her soulmates will fit in with her life with Kageyama.  That had been one of the first things the three of them had discussed when they realized they were soulmates: how it would and wouldn’t change current relationships.  Kageyama had become her best friend and one of the most important people in the world to her, she had explained, and nothing was going to take him out of her life in any capacity and as her soulmates they would have to either understand or keep their distance.  It had been nice to see that shy Yachi he remembered from high school putting her foot down about things that were important to her.

 

Just as he’s about to drain the last of his coffee from the mug Kageyama takes a deep breath and tenses.

 

“Why are you in our kitchen at five in the morning?”

 

Ryuu may panic a little.  As much as he knows Kageyama likes and trusts him he’s not sure how far that trust extends when Yachi is involved.  Or how much Kageyama knows about Yachi’s intimacy with other people

 

“Um.”  He swallows the last of his coffee and sets the mug down carefully.  “I was out of coffee at my place.”

 

After a long minute that feels like at least half an hour Kageyama slowly relaxes and Ryuu can picture the suspicious squint on Kageyama’s face.

 

“Okay.  Sounds fake.  But okay.”

  
  
  


Koutarou wakes up slowly.  He’s warm and content and still sleepy and when he grabs groggily for his phone and sees that it’s not even 5:30 yet he groans and drops the phone back on the nightstand.  Yachi mumbles beside him and snuggles close and he can’t think of anywhere else he’d rather be.  He’s about to drift back to sleep when the bedroom door opens.  He’s waiting for one of Tanaka’s smart remarks about being willing to gobble them both up or something.  Koutarou is still getting used to the whole poly relationship thing and getting used to Tanaka and all his flirting in general.  He’s not offended by it and he knows that’s most of the reason Tanaka keeps it up despite Koutarou not being interested.

 

The fact that he doesn’t hear one of Tanaka’s flirty quips before he feels the bed dip is what makes him open his eyes.  So at least he has a moment’s warning before Kageyama is slipping under the blankets and fitting himself into the space between Yachi and Koutarou and practically pushing Koutarou out of the bed.  Kageyama wraps himself around Yachi with a grumble.

 

“Uh, good morning?”  Koutarou is confused.  Mostly by the fact that Kageyama doesn’t seem to even care that he’s practically sandwiched between Yachi and himself.  He looks ready to fall right back asleep.  Yachi murmurs a little in response and Kageyama curls closer to her.

 

Koutarou takes that as his cue to get up before he falls out of bed.

 

He finds Tanaka in the kitchen nursing a mug of coffee and staring out the window.

 

“I think I just got kicked out of my girlfriend’s bed by her roommate getting into bed,” he says in lieu of a good morning.

 

Tanaka laughs.  “Kageyama came up and hugged me with his face in my back because he thought I was Yachi.”

 

“What even is this relationship,” Koutarou asks around a yawn.

 

“Interesting.”


	2. haru paints

Sometimes a blank canvas unnerves him.  All that emptiness just sitting there waiting for someone to fill it up, seems unnatural somehow.  Blank pages in his sketchbook aren’t the same.  They don’t have the same daunting emptiness, the same vastness to them.  He doesn’t miss the irony in the idea that a blank canvas leaves him with more of a sense of infinity than a dark night sky does; that blankness scares him more than the unknown darkness does.

 

Aone settles on the floor in front of the chair Haru is curled up in.  His laptop and camera are sitting next to him and he leans back against the chair while he transfers photos over.  His eyes drift to Haru’s sketchbook, open to a new still blank page, and then to the closet Haru keeps his canvases in.  After a moment Aone reaches up and pokes Haru in the cheek.

 

Haru reaches out and returns the touch.

 

The marks are strange to see and even stranger to watch appear since he doesn’t feel anything when it happens other than the warmth of Aone’s skin touching his.  They fascinate him.  Sometimes they spread like ink in water, sometimes they smear like paint, sometimes they appear like little blocky pixels chasing after a touch.  Sometimes they stay for seconds, the longest so far lasted for almost two full days.  Usually they stay no more than an hour and it’s only direct skin contact that causes them.

 

Neither of them are moving, they each have just one finger pressed into the other’s cheek; Aone’s finger near Haru’s cheekbone and Haru’s finger pressed into the middle of Aone’s cheek.  Aone tilts his head ever so slightly into Haru’s touch and Haru watches light blue seep from under his finger.

 

“I want to paint,” Haru announces.

 

Aone’s eyes flicker towards the closet.  Haru taps his cheek.

 

“Ah.”  Aone’s eyes widen in realization.  “Let me get stuff set up?”

 

A few minutes later Aone is laying stomach down on the floor with his laptop set up so he can work on editing photos and whatever else he’s doing today.  Haru settles himself on Aone’s lower back and stares at the blank canvas of his bare skin.

 

It’s warmer than any blank canvas shoved in his closet and less daunting for that.  His fingers itch to cover it in colors.  Aone’s breath is steady as he starts scrolling through his photos, staying as still as possible to avoid disrupting Haru.  This shouldn’t work, Haru thinks as he reaches out and drags his fingertips along Aone’s shoulder blade and paints dark green stripes along his skin.  The colors on their skin and the soulmate bond they have.  Even just himself and Aone in general.  Neither of them have much in common save for their art classes and their long silences that are best interpreted by their closest friends.

 

Yet Haru feels calm when Aone is around.  He feels known and seen in a way that doesn’t make his skin crawl.

 

He traces the line of Aone’s spine and watches as pale purple chases after his finger.

 

They haven’t figured out yet if the colors or patterns mean anything specific to either of them.  There’s no set color if Haru is unhappy or a special way the colors show up if Aone is tired.  But it’s the unknown variables that draws Haru back time and time again.  Why Aone allows the touch.  Why Haru himself allows it back.  What colors will appear next.  Will they seep like ink or spread like paint.  Are they going to be gone in an hour or will they last all night.

 

He stares down at Aone’s back and it looks a little like a kid has gone wild with finger paints.  Mismatched colors spreading here and there, bright splashes, pale lines.  That sense of infinity folds in on itself and narrows until all he sees, all he senses, is Aone’s bare back under his fingertips and Aone’s steady breathing and the soft song he’s humming and the sudden urge that Haru has to drag his hands against Aone’s scalp and the curious thought of whether or not his lips would leave marks as well floating in his head.

 

“I want to try something.”

 

Aone turns his head to the side for a moment and then nods.  Haru lightly pushes Aone’s head down and then lets his hands slide to the floor.  Aone waits patiently while Haru contemplates the bare patch of skin at the base of his neck.

 

Aone’s breathing only hitches slightly when Haru’s warm breath ghosts across his skin.  Haru smiles when he pulls away and sees light green lip prints against Aone’s neck and then flops down onto Aone’s back before Aone can ask about it, ask to see it.  Haru almost imagines he can feel the mark against his cheek as he rubs it against the back of Aone’s neck, effectively adding more color and smearing the proof away.

  
  


“Your lips are still orange,” Aone notes quietly a half hour later when Haru finally rolls off his back and returns to the chair.

 

“I didn’t ask,” Haru replies.

  
  
  


Futakuchi enters the art room the same way Haru’s favorite type of storms show up: one ominous rumble and then the rain starts pouring before the sky even fully darkens.

 

“Nanase.”  He hasn’t heard his name spit with so much venom since high school.  Futakuchi and Yamazaki really are a wonderful soulmate match.  “Nanase,” Futakuchi repeats as if Haru didn’t hear him the first time.  He did.  He’s not deaf.  Half the building would have heard him if anyone else had been around.  Thankfully it was almost midnight on a Thursday and he had free reign of the entirety of the Arts building - except for the computer lab reserved for art department students but he thinks that it might be Izuki up there so he wouldn’t care much.  “Nanase,” he says a third time when Haru doesn’t actually look up from the painting he’s working on, “what the fuck did you do?”

 

Haru does look up then.  Because Futakuchi sounds ready to punch someone and if he’s getting punched in the face today he’d really rather see it coming.

 

Aone hurries through the door a moment later, just as Futakuchi is about ready to grab Haru’s sweater and Haru is thankful Aone stops him because Makoto would probably be upset if his sweater got even more stretched out than it already will be by the time Haru gets it into Makoto’s clothes hamper.

 

“Kenji,” Aone says sternly as he covers Futakuchi’s entire face with his hand and pulls him away from Haru.  He stares at his friend and Haru is torn between watching them - wondering if this is what it looks like when he and Makoto talk without words - and going back to his painting because he was so close to finishing it and he doesn’t really appreciate being interrupted like this.  Haru picks up his paintbrush just as Futakuchi sighs and mutters something.  “Just watch,” Aone commands.

 

He steps up to Haru and waits for him to look up, tilting his head a little when he finally does and holding his hand out towards Haru.  Haru’s eyes linger on the deep purple marks on Aone’s neck before he rolls them and leans his head back a little in permission.  Of course that’s what Futakuchi is so upset over.

 

Aone steps behind him and Haru leans his head back against Aone’s stomach.  Aone’s fingers are cool when they settle gently over Haru’s throat and they both watch Futakuchi’s gaze flickering around.  Haru can’t feel the colors on his skin, they’ve determined that neither of them can ever feel any of it other than the points of contact, and he can barely even feel the cool press of Aone’s fingers he’s touching him so lightly but it must look impressive because Futakuchi’s eyes widen and he sucks in a sharp breath.  Then he scowls and spins on his heel, stomping out the same way Haru’s favorite storms leave: with a rush of wind following them and the promise that this wasn’t over.

 

Aone sighs, fingers sliding down Haru’s throat.

 

“Can I finish painting now?”  Haru waves the paintbrush in his hand a little.

 

Aone’s finger dips under the collar of his sweater and presses hard into his collarbone for a moment and then is gone.

 

“Don’t get paint on Tachibana’s sweater.”  Is all he says before he situates himself at a table in the corner.  Haru is sure he will pull out his phone soon and start taking pictures.  It had been weird at first, to be the subject of so much of Aone’s attention, but he’s mostly used to it and he doesn’t even spare Aone a glance when the camera shutter noise on his phone goes off.

  
  
  


Kenji doesn’t know why he’s so angry.  At first it had simply been because he thought Aone and Nanase had gotten into some kind of fight - which he knows is dumb because Aone wouldn’t really hurt anyone and Nanase is more passive aggressive than anyone Kenji has ever met, emphasis on the passive.  But even after Aone showed him the reason for the finger shaped marks on his throat and the other bruise colored marks littering his skin, showed him the colors seeping from his fingertips as he rested them against Nanase’s throat - and shit Nanase just sitting there calm as can be with Aone practically looming behind him caging him in had surprised Kenji - he had a curl of anger deep in his chest.  Maybe it was because his best friend had found someone just as quiet as he was to spend time with and he enjoyed it.  Maybe it was jealousy over Aone’s bond being such a visible, real thing when Kenji didn’t even know for sure if what he and Yamazaki assumed their bond effect was, was actually what it did.

 

There are a lot of maybes that fill his head as he hurries off campus and into the early morning air.

 

And runs into Yamazaki.  Literally.  Full body.  He would have hit the ground if Yamazaki hadn’t caught his arm and steadied him.

 

“Okay asshole your friend-” Kenji starts and he’s not sure why he’s even yelling at Yamazaki.

 

“Nanase is not my friend,” Yamazaki interrupts.  The word ‘friend’ seems to leave a foul taste in his mouth when it’s in reference to Nanase.  “Please stop.”

 

Kenji snorts at him.  “Yeah okay that’s bullshit.  You know it.  I know it.  We all know it.”  He waves his hand like he shooing away a fly.  “Now.  About your friend, asshole.”

 

“I just wanted to grab some ramen from the corner store.  What did I do to deserve this?”  Yamazaki mutters to himself.  Kenji valiantly chooses to ignore him and continues on his rant of how Nanase is a passive aggressive asshole and it’s rubbing off on his sweet, wouldn’t hurt a mosquito, best friend.


	3. bootycall

“How serious were you about being willing to help me out?”

 

Sawamura stares at him like he’s not quite sure what’s happening.  Which is fair considering it’s almost 2 o’clock on a Friday morning and Daiki kind of showed up at Sawamura’s apartment unannounced and come to think of it Sawamura probably doesn’t even know how Daiki got his address.  It was from Makoto who got it from his asshole boyfriend so, hey, at least that’s one thing Mikoshiba is good for.

 

There’s a restless energy in his body making his fingers jittery and his pulse fluttery and he’s about three parts curious about if Sawamura was serious and one part nervous that he actually was serious and a couple pinches of not sure why the hell he’s even bothering because it’s kind of a dumb idea.  Sawamura frowns at him and Daiki scowls back.  Yeah it was definitely a dumb idea but he’s already here so… whatever.

 

He’s just about to say fuck it and leave when Sawamura sighs and opens gestures for Daiki to come in.

 

“You’ll have to give me a few minutes to catch up to the world,” Sawamura says around yawn as he pads away from Daiki and rubs at his face.  “I was asleep.”

 

A twinge of something - not quite sympathy or guilt but something along those lines - flickers through Daiki’s awareness.

 

“Yeah.  I just got off work.  Sometimes I forget other people have ‘normal sleeping patterns’ and all that shit.  Tetsu yells at me a lot for that too.  Or, well, as close as Tetsu ever gets to yelling.”

 

Great and now he’s rambling.  What the fuck is he a teenage girl?  Did Satsuki take over his brain when he wasn’t paying attention?  Though honestly if he thinks about it, it is something she’s probably capable of.  She’s sneaky that way sometimes.

 

“Aomine?”  Sawamura asks, probably not for the first time since he’s got that scrunchy faced look of growing concern on it like he kept wearing that night they made out on Mikoshiba’s couch and he’d ask something and worry he’d crossed a line.  Great.  Even his thoughts are nothing but a rambling mess.

 

“Hm what?”

 

“I asked what you’re doing here at two in the morning.”

 

“I, uh, was wondering.  Uh how serious you were about that whole if I ever want someone to make out with and go further with that you would be willing thing.”

 

“And that’s why you’re here?  Why didn’t you just call and ask or text or even wait until it wasn’t two in the morning?”

 

“I didn’t think to ask for your number?  Fuck I dunno.  I seemed like a good idea when I was at work okay?  Forget it I’ll go home.”

 

Obviously Daiki had read some signal wrong.  Or Sawamura had just been saying whatever Daiki had been wanting to hear that night.  Either way it was a mistake and he never should have bothered.  He should have figured that Sawamura was like the rest of them: ready to say the right shit to make Daiki lower his guard.  Hell he probably laughed at how naive and eager Daiki had been later that night after Mikoshiba had growled at them and chased them from his apartment with a highly unimaginative and unbelievable threat.  Probably went and told his friends and they all had a grand old laugh at him.  Laughed at dumb inexperienced Daiki. 

 

Fuck it all.

 

Sawamura runs the back of his finger along Daiki’s jaw and he startles at the touch.

 

“Earth to Aomine?”

 

“What,” he snaps in reply.  He’s still pissed.  He doesn’t want to press into the finger still resting against his jaw but it’s tough not to.  He likes physical contact.  Likes throwing arms over shoulders and bumping knees and curling around people.  He likes pressing his shoulder into Tetsu’s and flopping across Tachibana’s lap like an overly large cat.  Of all the things he’s pretty sure he missed out on thanks to the way he pushed everyone away a few years ago he knows that the easy physical contact of friendship was one of the ones he missed the most.

 

“I said you don’t have to leave.  I’m just not used to people showing up at such an unusual time is all and I forgot that you don’t have my number and I’m surprised you asked someone for my address.  Like I said just give me a few minutes to catch up and wake my brain up.”

 

He lets Sawamura tug on the sleeve of his sweatshirt and pull him towards what he assumes is the bedroom and when he raises an eyebrow and gives Sawamura a cheeky grin Sawamura sighs at him and rolls his eyes.

 

“The only places I have to sit are a couple of uncomfortable bar stools in the kitchen and my bed and desk chair in my room.  Don’t get ahead of yourself just cause you’re unfairly attractive.”  Daiki takes a quick glance around.  It’s a typical tiny apartment bedroom, barely enough room to fit the bed pressed into the corner with the desk against the wall next to it and a closet stuffed with clothes and shoes and gym bags.  He flops onto Sawamura’s bed, stretching out until one hand is buried under the pillows, the other resting on his stomach, and his feet are nearly dangling off the end of the mattress.  “No, by all means, make yourself at home,” Sawamura says flatly as he settles himself in the desk chair and props his feet on the bed near Daiki’s elbow.

 

It’s then that Daiki realizes that Sawamura is barefoot in thin pajama pants and a loose tank top, ankles and arms crossed, and Daiki can’t stop staring at his bare skin.  It’s just Sawamura’s feet and a bit of his ankle but something about the easy and casual way that Sawamura is just right there draws Daiki’s focus.

 

Sawamura’s voice reaches him but it’s tinny, flat like the sound from an old television turned low, and Daiki doesn’t really hear him.  He pulls his hand from under the pillows and presses his fingertip to the ball of Sawamura’s foot.  Sawamura’s toes twitch and suddenly the sound comes back loud and clear.

 

“To answer your question, Aomine, I am completely serious about being willing to help you out.  I just wasn’t expecting a 2AM booty call.”

 

Daiki snatches his hand back and buries it back under the pillows.  Of course Sawamura was teasing him.

 

“It’s not a- I don’t want- ugh.”

 

Sawamura flexes and pokes at Daiki’s arm when he stops talking.

 

“So.  What do you want?”

 

It had all seemed so simple at work when heat had slithered through him out of nowhere and the idea had flickered into his mind.  He would come see Sawamura, they’d make out a bit and maybe take care of anything that popped up and then that would be it.  It’s not like either of them would want or need dozens of dates or romantic walks in the sunset.  Neither of them wanted attachments.

 

Fuck it.  Who was he kidding?

 

“I’m not sure what I want,” he finally admits.  “I’ve never really done much more than some touching.  No one’s really ever been around, or at least no one I would ever consider doing anything with, when I’ve been in the mood for anything.”  He knows he sounds lame.  He should probably just go.  The lingering heat simmering in his blood is starting to die out and he knows that if he doesn’t do anything it can be gone by the time he gets home. “Just forget it.”

 

He moves to sit up and then Sawamura is sitting next to him.  He’s not sure when the other man even started moving - if it had been a slow slip into Daiki’s space or a sudden leap - but his hip is pressing into Daiki’s and his knee slides under Daiki’s arm and Daiki lays back down and adjusts automatically until his arm is draped across Sawamura’s lap.

 

“I didn’t forget my promise and I’m not going to forget that you came to me.”  Sawamura’s voice is rough, gravel scraping across Daiki’s skin.  His eyes are focused on Daiki, on his movements and his breathing and his reactions, as he settles his hand against the center of Daiki’s chest.  The simmering in his blood flies into a boil under that warm hand and Daiki watches Sawamura moving his thumb in a gentle sweep.

 

He doesn’t want Sawamura’s gentleness.

 

_ Don’t you? _  Makoto’s voice filters into his mind and it takes a moment for Daiki to realize that it’s really him and not just a figment of Daiki’s imagination.  The confusion is understandable.  A lot of Daiki’s blood seems to be rushing through his veins and starting to pool someplace lower than his brain.

 

_ Don’t you? _ Tachibana repeats.   _ Don’t you want someone to treat you like you’re special.  Not the broken kind of special.  But important.  Wanted.  Needed. _

 

_ Shut up. _  Daiki snaps back. _  I don’t interfere in your dicking around with your dick of a boyfriend or his dick.  And I didn’t ask for your infinite wisdom. _

 

_ No.  But you want my advice.  My assurance that you can handle this. _

 

_ Of course I can handle this. _  Daiki scoffs at Makoto in his mind.   _ I’m Aomine Daiki.  Go back to dreaming about kittens or whatever it is that floats through your mind when you’re asleep. _

 

_ Sawamura is interested in you, you know.  Seijuurou has told me about some of the things that Sawamura can’t keep in his own head.  And he’ll do everything in his power not to hurt you in any way.  So if you want to go for it - and if those dreams you kept popping into my head while I was in my lecture last week are any indication you definitely want to at least try some things with Sawamura - then go for it. _

 

Daiki huffs and shakes his head.  Sawamura’s hand is still warm on his chest and he’s grinning when Daiki meets his eyes.

 

“Back with me now?”

 

“Uh, yeah.”

 

“Don’t worry.  I know the look when someone else’s voice is in your head.”

 

“Oh fuck do you have to hear them going at it too?”

 

There’s no logical reason that Sawamura’s laugh makes Daiki’s blood heat up.  But it does.

 

“How about this.”  Sawamura taps his pointer lightly against Daiki’s chest.  “I’ll take the lead.  Clothes stay on.  Hands may wander.  Either of us want to stop, we stop.”

 

“I can get behind that,” Daiki says after a minute.

  
  


Sawamura doesn’t really expect Daiki to think too much.  Which is nice.  Daiki doesn’t worry about what will come next or how far they’ll go or what will happen when they stop.  He just lets himself get swept away by the warmth of Sawamura’s lips, the secure weight of Sawamura settling against his hips and curling down over him, the careful way that Sawamura cups his cheeks and digs his fingers into Daiki’s short hair.

 

He slides his hands down to Sawamura’s waist and then up under his tank top, grinning into their kisses when Sawamura shudders.  Sawamura responds with a nip at Daiki’s lip that makes him groan in response.  Sawamura gives as good as he gets and Daiki has no idea if they’ve been at this for just a few minutes or almost an hour when Sawamura pulls back a little and rests their foreheads together.

 

He opens his mouth to say something but sucks in a deep yawn instead.  Daiki chuckles.

 

“Getting tired old man?”

 

“Well considering someone woke me up an hour after I fell asleep.  Yeah I’m a little tired.”

 

Daiki winces.  He probably doesn’t feel as bad about that as he should though.

 

“Yeah I didn’t really stop and think about the time when I got off work.”

 

Sawamura laughs and Daiki wonders when that started sounding so nice to him.

 

“Well I’m not sure I’m gonna be functional for too much longer but if you want I am more than willing to help you with this.”  Sawamura grins and wriggles against the hard on that Daiki hadn’t even realized had come back.

 

“Uh.  By all means.  Help away.”


	4. you're a girl too

“It’s like a full moon thing, right?”

 

Yukie lets out a long breath.

 

“Koutarou, sweetie, we talked about this years ago.  Girls do not all get their periods on the full moon.”

 

“Okay but the poly thing, right?  I don’t get it.”

 

She runs a hand across her face and sighs.  She had forgotten how easy it was to get turned around when talking to Bokuto.

 

“I understand.  But why are you asking me of all people?  Why not Akaashi?”

 

“Cause you’re a girl.”

 

“I am a girl, yes, thank you for remembering that.   But I am in a relationship with one person and we are very much not poly.  So, I repeat, why are you asking me?”

 

“Cause I don’t want Yachi to think I’m dumb cause I don’t get it,” Bokuto whispers.  “I don’t really care what most people think about me.  I know a lot of people think I’m just a dumb volleyball player and I usually don’t care.  I just.  I don’t want her to think that about me and Tanaka’s cool and I don’t want him to think that either.  They’re my soulmates and I don’t want them to think they got stuck with a complete idiot for a soulmate.  Like I’m so lucky.”  Yukie wants to head over to Bokuto’s apartment and just smother him in fuzzy blankets and hugs and curl up with him.  She would if it wasn’t a three hour trip one way and she has a class in an hour.

 

“Bokuto-”

 

“No you don’t get it.  Yachi is so smart and kind and sweet.  She’s got all these big plans about stuff she wants to do for people to help them and help businesses and stuff like that.  And she’s already working for some of those businesses and she’s working with Azumane to draw awareness to causes.”

 

“Bo-”  

 

“And then Tanaka is gonna be this awesome coach for teens and he’s working at that rec center for kids downtown and he’s just awesome and then there’s me.  I work part time at a pet shop cleaning habitats, have no clue what I want to do, and play volleyball.  I might as well still be in high school, Yukie.”

 

“Bokuto Koutarou,” she snaps.  “You are a great person.  You don’t have to have everything figured out.  And if anyone is lucky it’s Yachi and Tanaka because they get to have you as a soulmate.  You.  Koutarou.  You’re one of the kindest, most caring, most generous, most loving people I have ever met in my life.  You would give a stranger the shirt off your back - I know because I’ve seen you do it.  You would give everything you have if it meant someone else would have a better day.  You’re a hell of a lot smarter than most people give you credit for and anyone who gets the chance to really get to know you should be thankful for the opportunity.”  Yukie huffs loudly.  “And as for the poly thing I can’t answer your questions because I’m not Yachi.  You have to talk to her.”

 

Bokuto hums softly for a few minutes and then sighs softly.  “You really think so?”

 

Yukie smiles.  “Yeah I really do.  You’re amazing Koutarou and we all love you and if they’re really your soulmates then I can almost guarantee that neither Yachi nor Tanaka will think it’s a dumb question or that you’re dumb.  And if I’m wrong then you can show up at my apartment and demand I buy you chocolate cakes and ice cream.  Okay?”

 

“Okay.  Thanks Yukie.  You’re the best.”

 

“I know.”

  
  


Ryuu is a mess of nerves and very few of them are his own.  He’s curled up on one end of the couch in Yachi’s apartment with Yachi leaning against his side and Kageyama sitting on the floor in front of them.  Yachi is trying to outline some big project for class and Kageyama is glaring down at the notebook open in his lap - it’s German or Russian or some other language Kageyama is trying to pick up, Ryuu has trouble keeping track of which one he’s learning or has learned sometimes.

 

Ryuu feels a little like he’s had half a dozen cups of espresso and is about to jitter out of his own skin and he’s not sure why.  He knows Yachi is getting nervous about planning her project, she always gets nervous when she starts planning things, but he’s perfectly fine.  So it must be Bokuto.

 

As soon as he thinks that the jittery feeling ramps into something overwhelming and Yachi twists to look up at him with concern.

 

Kageyama growls, startling them both.  Ai is reciting rare flowers and arrangements for them and Daichi is retaliating with elevator music,” he explains when he realizes they’re both staring at him.  Then he narrows his eyes.  “You okay?”

 

Kageyama reaches up and settles his hand on Yachi’s knee and she smiles sweetly at him.  It hadn’t taken Ryuu as long to get used to their relationship extending into his own relationship with Yachi as he expected it to.  He figures it’s thanks to knowing them back at Karasuno but it still takes him a moment sometimes to adjust when Kageyama sits next to him and presses into his side or just drops his weight against Ryuu.  For all that he had seen Kageyama growing more comfortable and tactile with his friends in high school Ryuu had never really expected it to extend to him quite as easily and quickly as it had.

 

A heavy knock makes them all jump.

 

Kageyama hops to his feet to answer the door.

 

They can hear Bokuto’s voice echoing through the entryway with Kageyama’s softer tones chasing after it.  Once upon a time had anyone ever told Ryuu that Kageyama would actually be good at calming someone down he would have laughed at them.  But Kageyama has proven time and again that he’s actually pretty great at it.  At least with people with high energy like Hinata and Bokuto.

 

The mass of nerves in Ryuu’s chest isn’t unknotting while Kageyama talks to Bokuto but it is easing a little.

 

Yachi laughs softly.  “Everyone always used to think he was so hard to talk to and get along with and hated everything.  And now he’s the one that regularly talks Bokuto out of a mood.”

 

“Well he is pretty gifted in languages,” Ryuu says.  “Maybe one day he can help us learn to speak Bokuto.”

 

“He’s really a pretty good teacher as long as you’re willing and actually pay attention to him.”

 

They hear Bokuto laugh and that knot of nerves finally starts to unravel a little.

  
  


“Okay so here’s the thing.  I don’t really get the whole poly thing?  I guess?  I just.  I don’t get it.”  Bokuto scrubs at his face and then buries his hands in his hair, something he’s obviously been doing his entire trip over to Yachi’s apartment.  “I know it’s dumb and I’m probably just being dumb.  But I just, yeah.”

 

Yachi is away from Ryuu’s side and settling herself in Bokuto’s lap in an instant.

 

“It’s not dumb and neither are you,” she says.  “What don’t you understand about it?  Like being poly in general or just how it applies to me?”

 

“Both?  I guess?  I don’t know.  Like I’m with you, right?  We’re dating and stuff?”

 

“Yep.  I’m also dating Tanaka.  You two are both dating me but not dating anyone else.  Not that I know of anyway.”  Yachi winks at them both.

 

“If anyone ever tries to say she’s cheating let me know so I can punch them in the face.”  Kageyama pokes his head out of the kitchen just to say this and Yachi flushes bright red.

“No, Tobio, you are not punching anyone for being ignorant.”

 

“Can I punch them in the face then?”  Ryuu winks when Yachi frowns at him.

 

“There will be no punching anyone,” Yachi declares.

 

“So you just get like double hugs and cuddles and kisses and dates then?”  Bokuto’s face is scrunched up in thought and Ryuu has the urge to reach out and smooth the wrinkles between his eyebrows.  But he lets Yachi do it for him.

 

“Yeah.  That’s a good way to think of it.  Basically I just have a relationship with more than one person at a time.  I never lie about it and if someone isn’t okay with it then I try to talk to them about it and if it won’t work for them then I won’t date them.  Does that help at all?”

 

“But I can date just you, right?”

 

Yachi grins and Ryuu swears that even though it’s directed at Bokuto it feels like a sunbeam has just shone down on him.

 

“That’s right.  You can date just me.  Tanaka can date just me.  I just get to be lucky enough that I’m dating both of you.”

  
  
  


“We so have to meet someone new so I can say ‘this is my girlfriend, Yachi, and this is her boyfriend Tanaka.’  That would be awesome.”  Bokuto’s excitement is a nearly tangible thing even over the phone and Yukie laughs.

 

“Well I’m glad you got that sorted out,” she says.


End file.
